RANDOM MUSINGS ON “MEET THE PLAYERS” PARTY

Yeah, I went. I felt like a dork, but I went anyways.

There isn’t exactly a ‘story’ to be told from the day (well, except for one that I was forced to swear not to write on this site), but there are some random observations worth passing along for enlightenment, enjoyment and the mere killing of time.

First I will start with you, the fans. Well, not all of you. I liked most of the people I met. But you few, you know who you are, and please, shut up.

One portly fellow told me in line that “Ryan Smyth is a douche bag because he signed my card with a black pen.” Trying not to engage, I couldn’t help but tell him that it is a good thing Smyth isn’t paid to be the team’s color coordinator.

Another guy (who might have been the same guy) was yelling at Drew Doughty to stop stuffing his face because he was holding up the line. To be fair, Doughty was in fact stuffing his face. Here is a picture:

While the gentleman was correct that Doughty’s voracious appetite slowed the line a little, it was wholly obnoxious. I couldn’t hear what Doughty muttered under his breath, but I got the gist. He definitely did not say “I’m so glad you came.”

Unnecessary yelling aside, it was amusing watching Drew hurry to swallow giant bites of hot dog while anxious fans put awkward arms around him, waiting for a photo. I’m sure more than a few of you out there have pictures with Drew’s cheeks puffed out, or maybe even some nacho cheese escaping the corner of his mouth.

Raitis Ivanans excited my group the most. I don’t know why. I had never seen him in person, and I’ll admit I was a little scared. In lieu of an autograph, we considered asking Raitis to bite our hats as a kind of “enforcer stamp of approval.” Instead, we just got the autograph and a picture.

Two things jump out about this photo, one obvious and one that needs explaining, but both concerning his face. First of all, I didn’t know Raitis’ mandible was capable of forming a smile. I was impressed. He was actually quite cheerful. The second thing is that we didn’t want that smile in our photo. We asked him to give us a scowl, like he was about to beat the snot of out someone.

You know the look.

He tried, but he broke into giggles as the three of us did our best “I’m Raitis and I like to kill things” impersonation. I probably should have just asked him to pretend like he had just powered down some of the free nachos… which is what I had just done (yes, I’m the one who looks constipated. I already told you once to shut up).

This was also my first time seeing Ryan Smyth without his pads on and I noticed he and I share something in common. Neither of us have shoulders. I never knew that a professional athlete, certainly not one known for as much toughness and grit as Smytty, could be the sad owner of a pair of what I like to call sloping steeple Jew shoulders (I’m Jewish, I get to say that. You don’t). Smyth commented to my compatriot that he thought the Kings should bring back the Gretzky era jerseys. Williams made a similar comment.

The ice girls were all there. They are just as gorgeous and indicative of jail bait in person as they are on the ice or in videos. Some of their chests nearly crowded us out of the Hollywood Racetrack. They were handing out beads. I didn’t get any beads. I reprimanded one of them for not having any beads for me. She laughed and gave my friend a Kings beer opener. I still didn’t get any beads.

I did gain some insight into Terry Murray’s frustrated comments with Alexander Frolov after his benching, about how Frolov didn’t say anything in their private meeting. I now suspect that Frolov actually did speak, but that Murray simply could not hear him. I was standing two feet from him when I saw his lips move. Clearly he was speaking, but I could only tell that by sight. Aurally one would have thought that a pixie had politely sneezed.

Matt Greene looks 40 (in the manly way) and when he laughed I thought he would blow the building down. His chin alone could drive cattle.

Sean O’Donnell has probably been to more of these events than any man ever should in one lifetime. I got that distinct sense as I stood waiting to “meet” Kopitar when I looked over at OD. He was playing with his phone when a fan walked up to him and asked for his autograph. He paused, looked at his phone, then back to the fan, then back to his phone and sighed as he put down the phone and signed the jersey. I gained a great deal of respect for O’Donnell in that moment. While the majority of this post is sarcastic, that is not.

In case you were wondering, Teddy Purcell is not homosexual. He told me so… in so many words. I’ll let your imaginations run with that one.